The Last Ariadne
by Evara Silvaen
Summary: The Goblin King had never fallen in love with the girl. Any of the girls. The tales of the Labyrinth had always been a lure, drawing mortals into the Underground and binding them by their dreams- binding them to bind the spirit of the Labyrinth...


I'm taking things from both the novel and the movie and I am bending them to my designs without shame or remorse. Anything familiar belongs to the great late Jim Henson and company (or long dead greek poets and playwrights. I'd appreciate it if you tolerate my pseudo-mythology. I've basically played snatch and grab with the Argonautica and other Greek scripts, and I imagine it shows.

Special thanks and confetti to Whyndancer for Beta reading.

 _"_ _Hoggle," Sarah said, "I need you. I need you all."_

 _"_ _Sometimes," the Wiseman observed, "to need is…to let go."_

 _"_ _Oh,_ wow _!" said his hat. "And that's just for starters."_

 _Outside the dark window, the white owl had been perched with his claws hooked on a branch, an effigy of watching and waiting. Now he swooped away over the park, on silent velvet wings, up toward the full moon._ Anyone watching closely would have seen the owl fade into the ether, had they the right mind to see such a thing. But no one saw the owl, no one but one girl as she paused in reprioritizing her life. She gave a small smile as he disappeared. It was good that he was okay too, she supposed.

The Goblin King landed with practiced ease on the throne in a notably _goblinless,_ if utterly trashed, throne room. A lone chicken was perched on a window sill. Still an owl, the king looked intently at the other bird. The chicken, having seen what happens to poultry when that owl is about, bid a hasty retreat out the window with much loud flapping and squawking. Even fae kings are subject to petty amusements, especially when said amusements fulfill other desired results. Now to get rid of this filth…

"Asterion," Jareth called quietly after he had retaken his humanoid form. A wave of his hand set the room back to rights. Ale flagons and other sundry debris winked out of the room as if they had never been. Jareth sat ramrod straight on the throne as he willed forth the spectre that appeared.

"Milord wished to see me?" the spectre spoke as it bowed.

"Asterion, I assume you are aware of all that has occurred in the last day?"

"Of course, Milord, excepting…" the spectre gave Jareth a hard look, "You walked her through a dream." Jareth noted how scandalized the ghost sounded. " _Why?_ I understand the need to bind her with the fruit, but—" Asterion stopped speaking as Jareth rose from his perch and stepped down from the dais.

"My reasons are my own." Jareth stalked over to the window where he had spun those crystal dreams. Asterion watched bemusedly. "I deemed it necessary to bind her doubly through the fairy ring, and seeing how easily she shattered that bauble I'm glad I did." _Mortals have long stopped having such power. That_ she _broke through is strange._ Jareth thought to himself.

"You don't think she would come back otherwise, Milord?" Asterion questioned. He was of the opinion that the girl would be obligated to come back, fairy reels and fruit or not. "The game was not concluded. Every time before there was a definite ending. At least for the game." _And Her. Poor thing. Even when they triumph their stories rarely end well._ Though he did not speak it, the spectre was troubled.

"Tell me, old friend, can you see her still?" Jareth still faced out the window. The City appeared as it had for nigh a thousand years.

Asterion hesitated. _This is not how the story has gone in the past. Ariadne, she…_

"Asterion?" Jareth had turned to face him.

"It is difficult to put in words."

A corner of Jareth's mouth lifted. Whether in amusement or impatience, Asterion could not tell. "Try." Jareth said dryly.

"The others did not become bound to us in the way she has."

"Us?" Jareth interrupted. "Never mind, continue."

"The fruit, the ring, and finally by her own hand." Asterion sounded awed. " _'Kingdom as great'_ she claimed the Labyrinth and conquered it, even if she didn't understand it." The spectre looked away from his king. "She's never- the girls before her have never done that before. Not even the first time."

"So you can see her," Jareth said, sounding strangely resigned.

"No. She does not want to be seen," Asterion took Jareth's place at the window, steeling himself for the view of the distant maze. Jareth was the one who provided the anchor for his current form, even as disembodied as it was. Asterion was not often afforded the gift of sight as humanoid creatures know it.

Jareth returned to the throne and swung his legs over the right arm rail. "Go on," he closed his eyes.

"I can feel her, she plays anchor almost as much as you, almost as much as the walls. I should feel less like myself for her victory, instead I feel more."

"She set herself apart, though I'm sure it wasn't on purpose."

"By your leave, Milord?" Asterion was aware of the amount of power it took to render him visible to the senses. If the Goblin King was propping himself up on the throne, it was a sure sign this meeting was drawing to a close.

"Will you dispense with the 'milords' already? Two royals of dead and nearly dead societies, I believe we rank about equal,"

"Yes, but I owe you a debt, _Milord_ "Asterion smirked.

"It is not a debt if I took on the challenge knowing the risks. I like a challenge, you know that"

"Which is why you danced with the girl," Asterion smiled.

"Of course"

"You don't…love her, do you? The book she had seemed to be keen on that."

"That would be a foolish error for everyone involved now, wouldn't it"

"Yes, it would" the pair regarded each other quietly for a time. They had been fighting together through this cursed puzzle for centuries. Asterion regarded Jareth as the closest thing to a brother he could imagine having. Even Icarus had not been so close. Which was why the spectre was so concerned. He decided to break the silence. "You sang to her didn't you," Asterion prayed he was wrong.

"Yes,"

"Damn it, Jareth, we're all going to die."

"Probably," Jareth let Asterion's form disintegrate. As much as he was fond of that old bull, he didn't want to hear any lecturing right now. Jareth knew it could go wrong when he did it, knew it could be a death sentence.

Outside, the City appeared as it had for nigh a thousand years, but the labyrinth was changing, evolving to fit the one who could become it's new master.

 **Musical Artists for this installment:**

Nataly Dawn  
 **Sigur Rós**


End file.
